My Journey Started on TikTok—Now It Could Be Banned in a Few Days
Filming for a commercial property client in Downtown SF
TikTok didn’t just change the course of my life—it transformed it. I joined the platform in 2020, during the peak of the pandemic, having just moved back to San Francisco after finishing grad school. With a degree in Sustainability, I was working in the field, though much of my work required being there in person. I often found myself on Market Street, where I began posting funny videos about my daily life, hopping on trends, and capturing moments from downtown. I’ll never forget the day I was sitting with friends, and one of my videos hit 10K views in the blink of an eye, faster than any of my dozens of videos I had already posted.
Within hours, thousands of views turned into millions, and I realized TikTok could help me make an impact.
As San Francisco began allowing outdoor dining and open-air gatherings, I was excited to see the city come back to life. I started creating lifestyle content, highlighting new parks and reopened restaurants with outdoor parklets. That one viral video drew attention to my other posts, and soon, small businesses were reaching out, asking me to create TikTok-style videos for them. Although I loved Sustainability, I had been working in the field for years, even before grad school, and I was ready to try something new.
So how did TikTok transform my life?
Short answer: I quit my job and went all in on social media. I hired an influencer coach, binge-listened to content-creation podcasts, cross-posted on Instagram and TikTok, and committed to posting daily on both platforms—even on weekends. Within weeks, I went from breaking even to making a profit, growing two Instagram accounts to 20K followers and my TikTok to 10K followers in just a year.
I never imagined my full-time career would be as an influencer in San Francisco, focusing on fun things to do and places to eat. TikTok became the platform where anyone could create viral content, regardless of their follower count. It was a space for authenticity, where less-than-perfect content could shine and offer endless entertainment on any topic imaginable.
If the ban does go into effect on January 19, I’ll miss TikTok —but I’ll survive.
I got my start on TikTok- but I mainly rely on Instagram to get paid collabs. I’ll admit, most of my followers who recognize me in person say they know me from TikTok, even though I have a larger following on Instagram. On the other hand, most business owners recognize me from Instagram rather than TikTok, likely because they either don’t use TikTok or barely engage with it. Looking back, I’m glad I focused most of my energy on Instagram—if TikTok gets banned, I won’t be out of a job.
Interestingly, many TikTok users are now switching to Red Note, a Chinese app with a similar layout. It’s currently the #1 Top Free App on the App Store, surpassing platforms like Threads and Instagram. Since most of my clients come through word-of-mouth and Instagram, I don’t plan to repost my content on Red Note. Instead, I’ll be transitioning to YouTube Shorts and focusing on posting there. Nonetheless, I’ll forever be grateful to TikTok for igniting the fire that forged who I am today.
Working on updating my SF Events list on my website at SHACK15
Is this a sign that social media can disappear at a moment’s notice?
Absolutely. That’s why I’ve started focusing more on my website. Unlike social media platforms, which could vanish tomorrow, my website is something I fully control. While I do pay for Meta verification badges on both my Instagram accounts, there’s no guarantee my accounts are safe—I could get hacked and lose everything overnight.
One of my goals for 2025 is to build an email list through my website. This would allow me to send updates about fun events, new restaurants worth visiting, and discount codes for performing arts shows. It’s a way to stay connected with my audience regardless of what happens to social media.
I’d encourage other content creators to diversify their platforms and take ownership of their content—or at least back it up. You never know what could disappear tomorrow.
